The Love You're Given
by broadripple
Summary: (AU) It's been two years, and no matter how much she loves him, he is still a stranger.


She hadn't seen him in two years.

It started with her being called out of Nevada and into New York City for a job interview, because she had felt useless sitting around the house all day and managing his paperwork while he stressed about his father's law firm and fought cases all day. She'd taken a job as someone else's assistant instead, where she wouldn't have to suppress a sniffle every time she found a letter from the girl in his mail or accidentally saw their messages when she was cleaning out his phone. She trusted him with her sister, and although she hadn't wanted to leave Patty behind, she knew she couldn't come with her, and so she had kissed her goodbye at the airport and turned away, ignoring the cries coming from the younger girl. Sometimes she just had to be tough about things.

At first, they talked constantly. He'd Skype her every time he was home, and even if they weren't talking, they'd just sit on video and eat or do work together and she'd get to see him smile again and hear his laugh, which was rare, but gave her butterflies. Sometimes, out of sheer politeness, she'd tentatively bring up the subject of his girlfriend, and he'd shrug and say she was fine, and then grow quiet again. Elizabeth would wonder if they were having problems, and she cursed herself for the slight happiness she felt in the pit of her stomach. He was her friend, her closest friend, and she should be worried about his problems with his significant other.

Eventually, she stopped asking. The Skype calls grew shorter as they both grew busier, and eventually those stopped, too. They still texted, though, checked up on each other throughout the day to make sure they were fine. Elizabeth would make sure that he had eaten and that Patty was attending her classes, that they hadn't gotten Chinese takeout for the past two weeks because Kid hadn't had time to cook and Patty didn't know how. But soon enough, that stopped, too. The texts were just a quick hello in the morning, a quick goodnight. Liz didn't know what he'd eaten for dinner that night anymore, rarely got to hear about Patty's classes, never heard mention of his girlfriend or their other friends.

And then they stopped altogether. One day, he just didn't answer her, and Liz, ever prideful, refused to text him again or call him or try to Skype with him. She'd been gone for a year, working hard as ever and wiring some of the money down to Patty, living by herself in a lonely little apartment, and they had lost all contact. It bothered her for months. He bought Patty a phone at some point, and sometimes, when the two sisters were on the phone, Liz would ask softly if Kid was around, and Patty would say he was out every time. Sometimes there was a pause, and she knew Patty was asking him if he wanted to talk to her. It stung every time, so she stopped asking. And eventually, when she heard Kid in the background during her phone calls with her sister, heard Patty yelling that Liz was on the phone and him suddenly growing silent, she stopped calling Patty, too. She couldn't bear it.

After a year of having no contact with him whatsoever and extremely limited contact with her little sister, Liz decided that enough was enough. She quit her job, paying no heed to the two weeks of notice policy, and booked the next flight back to Nevada, hastily packing only the barest necessities, hoping that they had kept all her stuff in place in her room back at the mansion, like a large time capsule. She texted Patty from the airport terminal, told her to either hire a cab or have Kid pick her up, figuring that she should expect a cab. To her surprise, Patty answered quickly and told her that Kid was going to come pick her up.

The plane ride was the most nervewracking thing she'd been through in a while. She hadn't seen him in two years, hadn't spoken to him in one, and he was going to be here in front of her in all of his pale, bright eyed, whining glory in only a few hours. The thought of him carried such mixed emotions that Liz almost had to use the barf bag on more than one occasion.

He was like a stranger. That was all she knew. She didn't remember what went on between exiting the plane and seeing Kid standing near the door, gazing off into the distance. He seemed taller, even though she knew he hadn't grown, more tired, more ragged. His hair was a mess, which usually would have driven him crazy, but he stood there solemnly, his gaze unfaltering until she stood right before him, a single measly suitcase clutched in her pale hand, her long, dirty blonde hair tied back in a rushed pony tail, one he would have berated her for two years prior.

As their gazes met, his seemed to falter. At least, she imagined that it did. In reality, it had probably just stayed the same, and Liz's heart seemed to sink as she realized that them being reunited was not going to go as planned. She wasn't going to run and jump into his outstretched arms and he wasn't going to kiss her face and proclaim his love for her and tell her how much he had missed her, that he was sorry for dropping contact with her, that he loved her, he loved her, he loved her. It had been a silly fantasy anyway.

"Hello, Elizabeth," His voice was so formal and bare of emotions that it felt like a knife in the gut to Liz, who was used to hearing him at both the best of times and the worst of times. She was supposed to be his best friend, and he was supposed to be comfortable around her, and yet he was acting like he'd never met her before, like he was just driving her back to her house rather than bringing his closest friend home from a long trip. It hurt more than any physical pain she'd ever been in had, worse than any of the three gunshot wounds she'd received back in her street days. He didn't seem to notice.

"Hi, Kid. God, I missed you," She let the last sentence slip, because as much as she liked to think she was stubborn and could play the same game that he was, she couldn't. She had missed him, more than anything, more than waking up in the morning to the smell of eggs and bacon cooked for her on her birthday by him and Patty, more than her sister's hugs and going jogging at 5am on the quiet streets outside of the mansion, more than cheap nail salons and deep spa treatments.

He didn't smile at her, didn't show any sign of reciprocating her emotions, and Liz bit her lip and looked away from him and decided that this wasn't the time to yell at him and ask him why he was being such a fucking asshole, why he wouldn't talk to her, why he'd shut out the only woman who would ever put up with him, because that girlfriend of his certainly couldn't.

As if he'd read her mind, he leaned down just enough to be at eye level with Liz and met her gaze again,"She cheated on me," He croaked out, his voice barely a whisper,"She cheated on me, Liz."


End file.
